In The Angel's Embrace
by Masquerade350
Summary: My take on the 2004 movie... but different. This story follows Amanda, a 22 year old alto, on her journey to become a better singer, escape from her old life, and discover who is the mysterious masked man that haunts her dreams and why she feels so strongly for him. Rated M for mild language and a few scenes of intimacy later on. Please read and review. Enjoy! Sincerely, K-chan
1. Chapter 1: The Ghost of a Dream

In the Angel's Embrace

Chapter One: The Ghost of a Dream

Once upon a time, I fell in love with a man. Once upon a time, I knew total and complete happiness. Once upon a time, I met an angel. His name was Erick. This is our story, but I'm sad to say, it is no fairy tale.

_The stone was cold beneath my feet as I stumbled down a narrow tunnel, following the voice that called me. My breath came in short bursts as my feet slipped on the mold covered rocks. "_NO!" _My only coherent thought was "no"? I sped up, my bare feet struggling to find purchase on the ground beneath me as I sprinted down the passage. Turning a corner, I stopped. "NOO!" I screamed. A gunshot rang out, the singing stopped, and all I saw were his eyes as he fell._

"No!" I screamed, sitting bolt upright on the sofa. Sweat dripped down my skin. That was the third time this month that I had that dream. Standing shakily, I swept my soaking red curls off my neck. The cool air in the living room hit my neck, causing a sigh of relief to escape my lips. The TV was still on. I chuckled; _fell asleep on the couch again. _I clicked off the television and headed towards my master suite. The barely used bed looked warm and inviting, even as the first rays of sunlight trickled in through the windows. I shook my head. It would have to wait. I needed a shower first.

Hot water poured over my aching body. I shook my head, trying to remember the dream I'd had, but to no avail. It slipped away from me like the bar of soap I was reaching for. Except the eyes. Those piercing blue eyes played at the corners of my vision; taunting me. Those eyes that were so full of some unreadable emotion. _Why was he looking at me like that? Was I even sure it WAS a guy? No, I was completely certain it was a guy. It had to be. The voice was male; I think. Wasn't it?_ I shook my head to clear it; leaning down to turn off the water. I stepped out of the steam and wrapped my hair in a fluffy red towel. A few drops escaped from under the soft material, running down my face like tears. _I'm being ridiculous. It was only a stupid dream. There's no reason to get so upset over it. _Wiping steam from the mirror across the sink, I looked closely at my face. There were big purple bags under my eyes. I looked like I had been hit. I plugged in my hair dryer and unwrapped my damp hair, towel drying it gently before I ran a comb through it. I sighed again as I began to blow dry my hair. The roar of the dryer helped block my thoughts. It was unusually quiet for a Saturday. Usually I could hear the sounds of traffic even as I did my hair. I peeked around the door frame to check the time. I exhaled an exasperated sound. 3:00A.M. _Are you freakin kidding me!?_ I turned off the dryer, suddenly exhausted again, and shoved it into the cabinet on the wall. _I'm going back to bed. _I swayed over to the big canopy bed and flopped down, still naked and wet. Regardless of that, sleep claimed me in its velvet grasp within moments, enveloping me in a deep dreamless sleep.

I leaned against the wall in the break room, drained, and seeking escape from the most irritating person at my job. _Why won't he just leave me alone?_ I whined inwardly. Then, as if he were called, Dorian entered the employee lounge. A drunken smile was plastered across his chocolate colored face and mischief gleamed in his eye. I moved as far away from him as I possibly could in the small room. "Now hold up a minute baby, what'cha runnin' away for?" Dorian slurred, closing the gap between us in a few strides of his long legs. His breath reeked of alcohol and he stood at least half a foot taller than me. I wrinkled my nose at the stench. "Please leave me alone," I hissed. "Now, that's not very nice. One of these days you're gonna stop bein so cold to me," he chuckled, gripping my chin in his strong hand and stroking my bottom lip with his thumb. I shivered in revulsion. "See? You're already trembling for me," he whispered leaning in slowly. I ducked under his bulky arm and backed away as he turned to face me again. He stepped towards me, his tall muscular figure was intimidating to say the least, and his light brown eyes were glowing with intentions that I didn't even want to consider. Thankfully another of our coworkers walked in, rescuing me from another advance from him. He glared at the poor soul who walked in, and stormed out of the room. A breath of thanks passed my lips, as I sagged into a chair. I felt like I had just finished climbing a mountain.

I set my head down in my hands and groaned, "why me?" I heard a snicker from across the room. My head snapped up and my eyes lighted on the worker who had chased Dorian away. He was average height with shoulder length brown curls and bright green eyes. "What's so funny?" I hissed at him. "You really are something else you know that?" He chortled. I glared at him, "what exactly do you mean?" The guy shook his head, "you let yourself be bullied by a 6 foot mound of muscle who shows up to work drunk, but you don't take crap from anybody else. At least, not from what I've seen." I stood up suddenly, knocking my chair over in my outrage, "who exactly are you? And why the hell have you been spying on me? You some kind of stalker?" His green eyes filled with shock. "I've been working here for two months. You're kinda hard not to notice. The blood red hair kinda stands out. I'm Gregory." My cheeks burned with embarrassment; I'd never noticed him. "Sorry," I mumbled awkwardly, looking down at my long nails and playing with the small gold ring on one of my fingers. Gregory chuckled softly, "for what? Ha-ha. It's fine that you didn't notice me. I'm not exactly noticeable. Plus I tend to hang around the guys here." I nodded in understanding, a slow smile spreading across my face as my unease dissipated. "How else will I ever find a boyfriend?" He laughed again. I raised an eyebrow in question and he nodded in response. "So back to the topic, why do you let that meathead push you around?" His tone was nonchalant, but it didn't stop the bile from rising in my throat, nor my skin from crawling in fear.

"He scares me," I admitted in a small voice, "there's just something about him that…." I shivered, unable to finish the thought. Gregory nodded, "I understand. Guy's a creeper, for sure. But still…." I held up my hand, "just… drop it…. Please?" The tension between us was palpable. Then, like a blessing, our boss peeked into the room. "What're you two doing lazing around in here?" He demanded, "Amanda, go clean the girls restroom. Some kid ate too much candy during the movie and threw up in there. Greg, pick up your tray and start servicing in theater 11. It's packed in there." Greg and I nodded together and the boss walked away. I looked at Gregory. Barely controlled laughter had twisted his face. I burst out in a fit of giggles. The look on his face had sent me over the edge. The tension in the air vanished and our eyes met again. Greg cleared his throat and composed himself, "well then…. Back to work I guess. Catch you later ginger. Oh and have fun with the cotton candy puke." I snickered as he grabbed a serving platter and strutted away. Shaking my head, I grabbed the mop. _Finally,_ I thought as I smiled to myself, _I've made a friend at work._

A few days past, and Dorian had not bothered me even once. At least, not in the ways he used to. I still caught his sulky glares every now and again, and it felt like his eyes were always on me. Since I was always around Greg now, Dorian didn't physically confront me anymore at least. It was an improvement, however slight it was. But not even Dorian's glaring eyes could bring me down today. I was too high up for that. "GREG!" I shrieked excitedly, bursting into the lounge. He looked up, startled, "well somebody's in a good mood today. Good news I'm guessing?" I could barely contain my glee as I shoved the letter at him, bouncing on my toes like a fourth grader expecting some candy. Greg took it in his stubby fingers, and as he read a grin that matched mine spread across his pale face. "You got in?" He whispered. "I GOT IN!" I screamed. Greg jumped out of his chair, trapping me in a huge bear hug, "congrats babes!" I squealed with glee as he whirled me around. Dorian walked in and stared at us moodily, "will you two pipe down? This IS a theater you know?" I shrugged off his comment, dancing around the break room with Greg as Dorian poured himself a cup of coffee. "I can't believe it!" I sang, coming to a slow halt. "I know!" Greg gushed, "THE Performing Arts Summer Session! It's amazing!" Dorian turned and glowered at us again, "what're you talking about queer?" We ignored him, and Greg cocooned me in another giant hug. "I know right!? Paris here I come!" I squealed with delight, returning the hug. Neither Greg, nor I, paid a lick of attention Dorian as his coffee cup smashed onto the floor and he stormed away. We were too happy. But, that was the first sign. I wished I had taken notice of it before it was too late…..


	2. Chapter Two: Owned by Fear

Chapter Two: Owned by Fear

Greg sat on the end of my bed, swinging his legs while I packed. "You're gonna message me as soon as you get there right?" His big green eyes were filled with concern. I laughed, "for the millionth time yes. Don't worry so much babe. It's gonna be fine, and in a few months you'll be up there with me to watch the final performance. Then we can go around and ogle at all the hot French guys together okay?" Greg rolled his eyes, picking up a blouse and carefully folding it before placing it into the case. I took it out. "I'm not taking that one. It's too low cut. I don't need my teachers thinking that I'm trashy." Greg put it back in the case, a stubborn crease between his eyes, "take it just in case." I looked down at the blouse, "in case what?"

"In case you meet somebody," he chortled, winking at me slyly. I threw him a look of mock disgust and folded the blouse again, placing it neatly in the suitcase.

"You'll thank me for it someday," Greg said smugly. I stuck my tongue out at him, giggling like a grade-schooler, "oh hush. Just help me get this thing shut will you?" He bounced over to my suitcase and dropped in a short jean skirt before shutting the case and sitting down on top of it. I rolled my eyes once more and zipped the valise shut. Then I stood back and wiped imaginary sweat off my brow. "Whew! All this packing has made me hungry. Wanna order something?" Greg nodded enthusiastically, "yeah, we could have a movie night!" I grinned at the eagerness in his voice, "sounds good. Pizza or Chinese?" He tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully, "hmmmmm… I'm craving wings. Let's order Little Caesar's." Nodding in agreement, I dialed the number. "Go pick out some movies," I whispered at him above the dial tone. He scurried off into the living room just as the phone picked up. "Hi yes, I'd like an order of bacon honey-mustard wings, honey barbeque wings, a three meat treat, an order of cheesy bread, and a two liter of Mr. Pibb."

"So what'll it be tonight?" I asked, plopping down on the couch next to Gregory. "Pitch perfect, Titanic, Sweeny Todd, or Burlesque."

"They're all musicals….." I said, raising an eyebrow. "I know. I thought it fitting considering you're going to a school to learn how to sing. And thank goodness you are. I'm gonna go deaf soon if SOMEBODY doesn't help you." I swatted him on the arm with false indignation and pouted. Gregory burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join in. After a few moments, we settled down. "I'm gonna miss you Gregors," I said. "I'll miss you too Ginger," he mumbled, hugging me tight. I stood abruptly, wiping at my eyes, "I'll be right back. I gotta go pick up our order. You want me to pick up anything else while I'm out?"

"A couple pints of Ben and Jerry's," he sniffed, brushing away tears of his own. "Got'cha. Be right back love."

"Hurry back hon," he teased, playfully pinching my upper thigh. I yelped and batted his hand away, laughing as I walked out the door. _I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. _I chanted that mantra over and over in my head as I slid into my old Toyota Highlander. _I really am gonna miss him though. It's funny how a total stranger can become my best friend in such a short amount of time. _

I stood in line at the Walmart check out with two pints of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food, when the sensation of being watched crept up the back of my neck like ice. I turned around to see if someone was behind me only to find an empty space. Shrugging it off, I turned back around, but the feeling persisted. _It's probably nothing. _I thought absently. _I hope the food stays warm for just a little while longer. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since Greg and I can always nuke it. _I got to the front of the register, paid for my ice cream, and walked out. The feeling of being watched grew stronger as I walked through the practically empty parking lot. I hurried along, nervous and eager to get to my car. I glanced around me as I opened the back door to put my treasures away and still there was nothing. I slammed it shut, darted around to the driver's side door, and ran right into Dorian. I landed square on my butt, bouncing off of him like a rubber ball. _Has he been following me!?_ My heart was pounding like a death metal drummer. "D-Dorian….. How nice to see you again…" I chuckled nervously, standing up slowly and brushing myself off. He didn't say anything; he just stood there, staring at me with glowering brown eyes. I licked my lips uneasily, "well then, um, I'll catch you around I guess. Gregory's expecting me back at the house. We're having a movie night and I have the food so yeah gotta run…." I babbled on and on as I reached for the door. His arm shot out, ensnaring my wrist in a firm grasp. Now I'm not a skinny woman, but Dorian's massive hands made my wrist seem like the thinnest twig on Earth. I didn't even have time to protest before he pinned me against the driver's side door and clapped the other hand over my mouth. "You think you can just up and leave me?" He hissed, bending over so he was right in my ear. He reeked of alcohol again and his breath sent waves of nausea over me. "You can't leave me princess. You're mine! So enjoy your little trip to Paris, cause as soon as you get back, I'm gonna stop taking no for an answer. You won't have a choice. Got it?" I stood there shaking in his grasp, terrified. _What is he gonna do to me? _As if he read my mind, Dorian grabbed my hair roughly, removing the hand from my mouth and causing me to yelp in pain. He pressed his thick lips roughly against mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I could taste the beer he had been guzzling earlier. Then, just as suddenly as he had kissed me, Dorian pulled away with a smug, triumphant look plastered across his face. "You're mine," he reiterated, and then he disappeared into the shadows.

A week later, I was on a plane to Paris, far, far away from Dorian and the fear he inspired in me. I was so relieved that not even the kid behind me who kept kicking my seat, nor the fat lady across the aisle who was singing along with her iPod, could annoy me. _She really is tone deaf though. _I chuckled to myself, pressing my Skullcandy earbuds into my ears. Sleeping with Sirens began wailing in my ears; the lyrics were heart-rending and deep. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. _Soon,_ I though gleefully, _soon, I'll be singing my way across the stages of Paris. _The kicking of my seat stopped as the kid got up to go to the restroom, and I fell asleep surrounded by music.


	3. Chapter 3: Free At Last?

Chapter Three: Free at Last?

(I'm really sorry that my character sleeps so much guys. I'm trying to figure out another way to transition things without that or skipping forward long periods of time. I'll do better about it in the future, I promise. Until then, please bare with my sleepy character. Once Erik shows up, Amanda won't be sleeping nearly as much ;3)

_I was running again, trying desperately to keep moving forward over the moss covered stones. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears like a snare drum. _"Keep….. Moving," _I thought desperately. My feet flew over the ground. The walls blurred around me. Then I went flying, suspended in the air for only a few moments, before I crashed to the floor. Pain shot through my left shin as it scraped painfully across the floor. Tears flowed down my face as I pushed myself up, my leg screaming in protest. "_He needs me!_" a voice inside my head shrieked. I started moving again, faster and faster. I slid around the corner at the end of the familiar corridor. "__**ERIK!**__" I reached out to the figure I saw across the lake. He turned to me, his hand outstretched, and his sapphire eyes met mine. A shot rang out. My tortured cry pierced the air like a knife as he fell to the ground…_

"Ma'am?" I opened my eyes slowly. I could feel tears on my cheeks and my throat felt raw. "Yes?" I rasped. A concerned stewardess looked down at me, her blond hair falling loose around her kind face "is everything alright?" Sitting up, I nodded, "yeah. Bad dream is all." Her worry-filled brown eyes continued to study me, "are you sure miss?" I flashed her a brilliant smile, "absolutely," though a feeling of dread had knotted itself into my stomach. She smiled gently back at me, "well if you're sure." Tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, she informed me that we were beginning our descent and walked away. _What is wrong with me?_ I sighed inwardly. Glancing around, I saw several passengers shooting me wary looks. _Great, _I thought, _now I'm scaring people. Just, freakin', great. _I let a peeked at them, my cheeks a flaming red, offering an apologetic smile. Some of them nodded in understanding and smiled back, others simply turned away from me and didn't look back again. I leaned back, closing my eyes in frustration as I chewed my lower lip. _I just want these dreams to go away. Please… _I sighed out loud. Then, like the softest brush of a feather, a voice whispered, "**soon**."

"Uuuuurgh," I groaned, stretching as I waited for my bags at the conveyor belt. I hated flying, but it was the only way to get there on time. I looked around and noticed several other girls my age waiting as well. Some of them had toe shoes on. Others were holding black binders filled to bursting with papers. One girl in particular caught my eye. She was standing straight and tall, as if she had a pole strapped to her spine. Her brown eyes were filled with disdain as she looked at the people around us. Her brown hair hung straight down her back. I chuckled, walking over to her. "You know if that nose of yours gets any higher into the air, you'll end up flipping somehow." Her eyes met mine in a glare that rivaled Dorian's. Her voice came out in a high pitched whine, "who are you? And why are you talking to me?" I raised an eyebrow, "because you were standing all by yourself, and I thought I'd talk to you." She scoffed at me. "I do NOT talk to poor people." "Charlotte, be nice." A sweet voice perked up behind her. The snobby girl, Charlotte, turned towards whoever spoke. The girl behind her was tall and lean; her sweet heart-shaped face was surrounded by a halo of silvery blonde hair. She bounced over to me, a huge grin spread over her face, making her large brown eyes sparkle. It looked like her face was about to split in half the way she was smiling. "Hi!" She chirped, "I'm Marcy! You must be new this year, cause I haven't seen you before. I've been coming for years now because my mom is the ballet instructor at the school. What's your name!?" I stood there staring at her for a moment. She looked down at me expectantly. "I… uh… I'm Amanda." Marcy's grin grew even wider, "it's so great to meet you! I just know we're gonna be great friends! So what are you here for!?" I looked at her in awe, _how can anybody talk that fast? _"Are you okay?" Marcy asked, interrupting my thoughts. I shook my head, "yeah, fine. Um… I'm here for the music academy…. I'm an alto…." "Great!" She exclaimed, "Oh are those your bags? Let me help you with those!" Without waiting for an answer, she snagged the suitcases off the conveyor. They WERE in fact my bags. I took them from her gingerly, "no thanks, I got it. 'Preciate it though." Marcy's face fell for a moment, and then snapped back up with an eager smile painted across it. "The bus is waiting for us. C'mon!" She said, snagging my wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. She chattered excitedly as she dragged me towards the bus. _Geez_, I thought to myself as we reached the bus and I loaded my bags into the cargo space underneath, _is she always so pushy? I don't know how I feel about this girl. She seems nice enough though, so might as well. _Sitting down by the window towards the back, I felt her plop down beside me. _At least I won't have to talk much._ A small smile tugged at my lips as her voice fell into the background.

"**Soon my child**," I looked at Marcy in confusion. "Did you hear that?" She raised a blonde eyebrow at me, "hear what?" I shook my head to clear it, "I thought I heard somebody." The blonde girl frowned, "well I WAS talking to you if that's what you mean." My face flushed. I had completely tuned Marcy out about fifteen minutes ago. "Sorry, I wasn't listening. I'm kinda tired, didn't sleep too well on the plane." She sighed good-naturedly and allowed a gentle smile to show on her face. _Wow, she's really pretty, _I thought, returning the smile with an apologetic one. "I should have figured. I was on your flight. I heard you screaming." Heat crept up my face, "really?" She nodded and tapped her shoulder, "rest." The shock must have been evident on my face, because Marcy laughed and gently guided my head to her shoulder. A yawn escaped my lips. "Sleep Amanda," she whispered. My eyelids grew heavy at her words. I closed my eyes in exhaustion. _She reminds me of Mom._ I thought absently. A tear fell from my eye, and sleep dragged me under its velvet folds. What felt like only a few minutes later, I felt myself being shaken awake. "Mmm?" I grunted, sitting up. Marcy smiled gently, reaching up to tuck a strand of stray hair behind my ear, "we're here Amanda. Welcome to the Opera Populaire."

The building rose out of the ground, towering over me. Gold accents glittered over the massive grand staircase. Magnificent sculptures held their oil lamps high and shimmered with pride in the fading sunlight. The marble stairs where a shining white with streams of silver and grey shot through them and they spread open like wings on an angels back. "Oh. My. God." I gasped every word, my mouth flopping open like a fish. I heard Marcy giggle behind me, "wait till you see the inside." I turned to her with a huge grin on my face. My excitement felt like a bubbling cauldron. I could barely contain my joy. This gorgeous building was going to be my room for the next four months. I glance up at the sky and mouthed, "thank you," silently to God; a feeling of blessing wrapped around me like a cloak. Marcy spoke again, snapping me out of my thoughts, "you coming!?" She waved at me from the top of the stairs and I realized I was the only one still standing at the foot of the stairs. Heat crept up my face as I picked up my somehow unloaded bags and made my way up the enormous stairway. "Need some help with that?" asked a warm voice beside me. I looked to my left and found an older woman standing next to me. "N-no… I think I got it," I stuttered, lowering my eyes. I heard her chuckle as the weight of my heavier suitcase was lifted from me. "Come on slowpoke!" she teased, "you're gonna miss all the fun!" And with that, she took off up the stairs. I stared after her, wide-eyed. _Who the hell was that?_


	4. Chapter 4: The Opera House

Chapter Four: The Opera House

I reached the grand doors of the opera house, panting heavily. I had taken off after the strange woman who had snatched my bag. The doors parted before me, held open by two, well-dressed men. "Welcome," one of them said, smiling warmly. The other stood cold and stiff, not even looking down at me. I smiled back at the one who greeted me, walking forward slowly into the building, trying to slow my heartbeat. The woman who had taken my valise was standing there with the rest of the group, with her arms around Marcy. "Maman!" Marcy squealed as the woman spun her around. They stopped when they caught sight of me and Marcy rushed over to me. "Amanda, this is my mother, Madam Giry. She's the dance instructor here." Madam Giry smiled at me, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners, "call me Gypsy. Everyone does." I stared at her for a moment, taking her in. She was the opposite of her daughter in almost every single way. The only thing that matched was their sparkling brown eyes. But the similarities ended there. Madam Giry had short, brown, curly hair, shot through with silver here and there. Laugh lines surrounded her eyes and played at the corners of her thin lips. She was slender and pear-shaped; her hips curved out under her long wild skirt. She walked up to me, bells that I hadn't noticed tied around her bare ankles jingling with every step, and pulled me into a big hug. "Welcome my child!" Her voice dropped lower in my ear, so only I could hear her, "we've been waiting for you." My eyes opened wide, "what did you j-" I was cut off as "Gypsy" let go and danced away.

"I see you've taken the liberty of weirding out the students already, Madam Gypsy," boomed a loud voice to the left of me. Everybody turned their attention towards the source. There stood a tall man with slicked back brown hair and thick eyebrows shading his eyes. Everything about him commanded respect and exuded elegance. Beside him stood a wiry, grey-haired man, who stood there quietly with a nervous look in his beady black eyes. "I am Monsieur Firmin, your headmaster. And this, is my assistant headmaster, Monsieur Andre'," The taller man said, gesturing to himself and the shorter man beside him. Monsieur Andre' waved nervously at the group and let out a small, stuttered, "h-h-h-hello." His eyes caught mine, and I smiled encouragingly. He lowered his gaze to the floor immediately, as if I had glared at him. _What's his problem?_ I hissed inwardly, waves of offense rolling over me.

"Now if you'll follow me this way, we shall begin the tour." Monsieur Firmin's voice floated in the background of my thoughts. I followed slowly, losing myself in the beauty of the opera house. Gold and marble was everywhere in the entry way. It was almost like the place had been carved out a solid piece of marble. The auditorium held soft, plush looking, red chairs and the walls were covered in red velvet drapes and elegantly sculpted statues. Awe shown plainly on my face as we walked backstage and through the rooms where we'd be having classes, I couldn't help myself, it was all so magnificent. We finally, after what must've been hours of walking, we came to the dorms. Monsieur Firmin divided us into pairs and gave us our room assignments. I was one of the last ones. "You will be paired with Charlotte and Marcy as there is an uneven amount of students this year. Now then," he finished, turning to everybody, "good night. Breakfast is at 10 sharp." He and Monsieur Andre' walked down the hall, leaving us alone. "This is unacceptable," shrieked a familiar whine. I turned to see Charlotte throwing a temper tantrum that would put two year olds to shame. She was bright red in the face, hissing and spitting as she pushed people to rush after the headmaster. "Good Lord…" I whispered.

I heard a low chuckle from behind me and whipped around to find myself face to face with Mme. Giry. "She's gonna be a handful alright." The older woman laughed, alleviating the tension in the air. Then she dropped her gaze to me, smiling gently, and with that same voice she whispered, "Good luck." And with that, she turned to follow her employers and my roommate. I turned to face Marcy and the rest of the girl's and found myself to be alone. "Um…where's my room?" I wondered aloud, my eyes darting around to search for some sign of life. My bags had been delivered to my room thankfully, so I didn't have to drag them around as I wandered through the maze of hallways in an attempt to find my room. _This place is huge._ I thought idly. _I could get lost if I don't pay attention._ Turns out, that's exactly what I did. "Shit," I hissed under my breath, taking a right. I had no idea where I was. Sinking to the ground in frustration, I closed my eyes in the semi-darkness. A chill wrapped around me as I sat on the stone floor. I opened my eyes again and glanced around. Suddenly this place seemed very familiar. I got to my feet, dusting off my jeans, and began walking down the corridor I was in. _This is the place from my dreams._ Cold sweat broke out on my neck as I realized it. My feet took off automatically. I raced down the hallway, panic overtaking my senses. _What the hell am I doing?_ I screamed, willing my legs to stop. They moved still, pulling me forward over the stones. The air grew colder and wet around me, sending shivers down my spine. "Amanda! Where are you!?" I stopped dead in my tracks, "Marcy?" "Yes," the blonde's voice echoed to me. I turned towards it and started walking as fast as my unwilling legs would allow. "I got lost!" I yelled. "I figured," Marcy's laughter guided me to her and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then suddenly it swept over me, the same feeling as I'd had back home the night Dorian attacked me, only not as unnerving. I looked around to see if anyone there, but was greeted with only darkness. "You coming!?" Marcy called, reminding me where I was. "Yeah," I shook myself and took off towards her voice again.

(Next chapter might be somebody else's POV for at least part of it. I'm not quite sure yet. But I do know that the Angel will be appearing soon, in the next few chapters, so please have patience with me. I'm trying not to take things too fast. Leave me comments about whether or not you think I should switch POV's in the next chapter and whose POV it should be.)


	5. Chapter 5: Through the Angel's Eyes

Chapter Five: Through the Angel's Eyes

(In case the title is not enough of a hint, this is written from the Angel's point-of-view. Enjoy)

**Earlier that day:** I watched as the gypsy woman danced around my home. "You're really starting to try my patience." I hissed. She had barged in here about thirty minutes ago, singing at the top of her lungs about good news and had henceforth begun dancing. The gypsy still hadn't told me what it was. _It had better be good if she's been making me wait this long. I don't have time for this. A new flock of mindless students is coming in today and all of them will want to be the prima donna. I'll have to put up with their shrieky soprano voices for months._ I sighed inwardly. I'd have to make my presence known again, so I was trying to find a way to do it that would piss off the headmasters as much as possible. "She's coming today. A rich, smooth alto voice with a higher range, who's only desire is to sing." Those words echoed off the stone walls of the cavern. "An alto?" I gaped at the gypsy in shock. The headmasters hadn't accepted an alto in ages, as they were deemed incapable of singing opera by the brainless duo. I closed my eyes and imagined a full rich low note sung from a female voice. Shivers ran down my spine at the thought. "How delicious," I mumbled under my breath.

"She's not just any girl though, Mon frer. She's your girl." I snapped my head up to meet her gaze. "The girl from the dreams? The one with the dark red curls and pale skin?" Mme. Gypsy nodded, a lazy smile spreading across her well-aged face. "When?" I gripped her by the shoulder's shaking her in my haste, "when?" The gypsy just smiled silently. I felt my rage bubble up inside of me like acid and I raised my hand to strike the older woman, but quickly thought better of it. _A gentleman never strikes a lady. No matter how infuriating she is. I may be an adult but she's still my superior._ I stood there, slowly calming myself with my own thoughts, reminding myself of my age and status to ward off the anger. Then I heard her voice, "today." I whipped around to face her, but she was gone. _I swear that woman moves faster than I do._

I climbed to my little spot over-looking the entrance to the opera house. The grand staircase leading to the front door spread out below me like a wide open embrace. I touched my mask, itching to pull the thing off, but not willing to risk it with the bus pulling up. All of the previous phantoms bore this mask. The white leather felt cool to the touch. It was a strange piece of work, hand-crafted by the first Opera Ghost. It molded solidly to my features, hiding the rough scar that ran down the right side of my face. Turning my eyes to the window once more, I saw her. She was impossible to miss. Her full, curvaceous figure clad in black and green stood out among the flowery pastels all the other girls wore. A ray of sunlight caught her hair, setting it alight. It looked like fire, like mahogany flames. I could see her, gaping up at my opera house in awe, and a slow smile spread across my face. _Finally,_ I thought joyfully. My angel had arrived.

I followed her like a man possessed as she was guided through my home by those two bumbling idiots. Her angelic face shone with delight as she walked down the passageways. _Blue-green_. I smiled. _Her eyes are such a lovely blue green._ In my dreams, I'd never be able to see her face clearly, and I'd awaken with only the memory of long, red curls in my mind. I never imagined her to be so exquisite. She was thick cut with full, rounded hips that swayed gently as she walked, with a generous bosom that strained against her dark green t-shirt, and a sweet, heart-shaped face. _Thank God she's not some skinny little twig._ I raked my eyes over her, drinking her in; everything from her slender waist to her full pink lips. Long lashes cast shadows over her rosy cheeks. She had an innocent look about her. But oh those curls; they framed her pale face so perfectly, cascading down between her shoulder blades in crimson waves. I looked after her longingly, turning away in reluctance. _I have to leave. Before I'm tempted too far._

I went over her face in my mind again and again as I sat in front of the organ. She was so beautiful. Now I know how they had all felt, falling in love with somebody whom it was so impossible for them to return the affection. Gloom surrounded me. I had left to avoid the wave of emotion that had crashed over me. I'd wanted to reach out and touch her so badly, to embrace her soft, voluptuous figure, to hold her tight against me and inhale her scent, to know her touch. I shivered at the magnitude of love that washed over me. No two Christines were alike. The last phantom's journal described her as an Amazonian goddess, tall and thin like a reed with rich chocolate skin. Each one is born in a way that is completely irresistible to us. _She will be the first one_, I thought absentmindedly, remembering Mme. Giry's promise of an alto voice. Christine had always been a soprano, no matter the preference of the Phantom.

A new feeling washed over me. _**Somebody's coming**__, _a voice in my mind hissed. _Impossible, _I thought, _the entrances are all hidden. Only the gypsy and I can enter the passageways to get here. Nobody else has the power… except…_ I jumped to my feet, following the feeling in my gut towards a hallway. I halted halfway down, stopping dead in my tracks. There she was, racing down the hallway, her lips pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed in concentration. _**NO!**_ The voice screamed in my head again. _**Not yet! It's too soon!**_ My mouth opened of its own accord and a mockery of the gypsy's daughter's voice fell from my lips, "Amanda! Where are you!?" The girl stopped in her tracks, turning to face the path she had just run down. _How the hell did I know her name?_ The astounded thought swept through my mind as I called again. She opened her mouth in reply and a musical lilt tumbled from her sweet mouth, "Marcy?" Oh how I wished for her to be calling my name instead. I answered her in my disguised voice. She began following the direction from which she came. My heart twisted in pain to see her go. _I'll follow her. Just to make sure she doesn't get lost again._ I watched her turn to leave, and then followed silently over my angel.

(I hoped you guys liked this chapter. I'll try to post again soon. Please leave a review. I'd really appreciate it. Sorry it's so short. The next one will be Amanda's POV again. And hopefully, the two of them will finally have their first encounter… maybe face to face)


	6. Chapter 6: Auditioning for an Angel

Chapter Six: Auditioning for an Angel

(Okay so I lied. This chapter I from Erik's point-of view as well, at least in part. But I got to write what I'm inspired to. I do not own POTO or any of the characters, otherwise this would be a movie by now. The lullaby is from Jesus Christ superstar and I don't own that either. Lol. Enjoy you guys)

That night, I awoke from my make-shift bed over by the fireplace with a song on my lips. The sensation was new to me. In all my years, all 27 of them, I never had the urge to compose music. It was always an amusing pastime. But now, my fingers itched to write a symphony. Songs raced through my mind, songs I had never heard before in my life, songs that had a life of their own. I felt like I was going to explode with the newly alight passion inside of me. The music warmed me to my core as I grabbed several sheets of music that the gypsy always left me, and began to write. It poured out of me in a fountain of beauty and sound. I opened my mouth and sang along as I wrote in languages I didn't even know that I knew. But as each song left me, a hole formed. A cold, dark emptiness in the pit of my stomach, which churned like the sea in a storm, and yet I was still compelled to write. My fingers ached from gripping the pen so tightly as my arm moved on its own. Each song plunged me further into darkness. I threw the writing tool from me, unable to stand it any longer. As I stood, I caught a glimpse of my mask-less face in the mirror, and a shiver of revulsion crawled over my skin. Suddenly, my simple scar had blossomed into an infected mess. The skin under my eye was puffy and sagged, veins were visible under my red, irritated looking skin, and my scar burned as though it were just cut. A cry of panic tore from my throat, _what's happened to me!?_ My mind screamed insults at me, and a feeling of hatred for myself consumed me, dragging me down into the black pit of despair.

"The change has come over you my child." I turned to find the gypsy behind me. "What change?" I snarled, not recognizing my own voice. Her gentle, brown eyes stared guilty at me. "Once you find your angel, a change comes over you. The passion and pain of the original Phantom consumes you. His scar becomes yours to bear, and his soul entwines with yours."

"So this is all that girl's fault!?" I howled, swinging an arm in rage and knocking over a candelabra. It hit the floor with a loud clang the resonated off the walls. Gypsy shook her head, "no, it is the angel's fault. He takes control of your feelings, of you. Except…"

"Except what?" I hissed.

"He cannot control how you feel for her, because she is not his Christine."

"Good, because I hate her! If she hadn't shown up, this," I exclaimed, pointing at the newly ruined half of my face, "wouldn't have ever happened!"

The gypsy's gaze fell upon me with an anger that shocked me. Her voice boomed off the walls, "**THIS IS NOT THAT CHILD'S FAULT! SHE HAS DONE NOTHING TO YOU! AND ONLY HER LOVE CAN SAVE YOU, YOU ARROGANT CHILD!"** I shrank back under her fury. The gypsy had never raised her voice before. It was surprising that her lightly accented lilt could produce this magnitude of sound and fury. But her words did ring true to my ears, and I bowed my head in acceptance of my fate. _I am the Phantom, and this is my destiny._ Turning from the gypsy to face myself in the mirror, I looked at myself one last time, and then pulled on the mask that was now my sanctuary. Mme. Gypsy spoke quietly behind me, "it's time to go. You want to hear her sing don't you?"

Amanda's POV:

I woke up to Charlotte slamming her way into the room and storming over to my bed. "Get up," she spit at me, "the biggest bed is mine." I turned over on my side, ignoring her in hopes that she would go away. The clock on the nightstand beside me read that it was six a.m. _She spent all that time arguing over room placement? _I thought foggily. "I SAID GET UP!" Charlotte screamed behind me. _Crap,_ I thought. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want YOU to get your poverty-ridden ass out of **MY** bed before you infect it with some kind of disease." I winced at the insult. Just as I was about to speak, Marcy's voice rang out, "Charlotte, there is another bed on the far wall. So leave Amanda the hell alone and go lay your rich white ass down on the available bed before I beat you senseless." I gasped at Marcy's harsh tone, sitting up to face her. Charlotte's face mirrored my look of shock. "I'm NOT a morning person," Marcy hissed, "now both of you go back to sleep. We have auditions first thing after breakfast at 7:30" With that, Marcy plopped back down and curled up in a ball. _Remind me not to get on her bad side,_ I told myself, curling up in my bed again. Charlotte's quiet footsteps retreated to the empty bed in the darkness. I heard her rustling around for a bit, and then her deep breathing filled the room. I lay there, trying to get comfortable, trying to find sleep again in the darkness. But sleep avoided me, and so I lay there, staring at the ceiling in deep thought, waiting for morning to come.

Phantom's POV:

I found her room and stood behind the one way mirror it possessed. My blood boiled when I heard such harsh word aimed at my innocent Angel. She had been sleeping so peacefully till that little prick came in and started shrieking at her. _I'll have to teach that one a lesson._ My eyes fell upon Amanda's sweet face as the room fell silent. Worry and anxiety played over her sleepless features. Ten minutes passed and she was still awake. I sighed. _She needs sleep for the auditions today._ I thought. A song played through my mind. A lullaby. "Try not to get worried. Try not to turn onto problems that upset you. Don't you know everything's alright…"

Amanda's POV:

As I lay there in the darkness, waiting for sleep, a voice curled around me. It was rich and smooth like caramel. A perfect tenor, almost a bass, and as the song danced around me, I felt myself growing sleepy. "… yes everything's fine. And I want you to sleep well tonight. Let the world turn without you tonight. If we try, we'll get by, so relax, think of nothing tonight." _Why is that voice… so familiar?_ I thought drowsily, before being pulled into the darkness of sleep.

Phantom's POV: (yeah I know I'm switching a lot okay? Don't you judge me. Lol)

Finally she slept. Her sleeping face was angled towards the mirror. A sigh of bliss escaped me. _She's so perfect._ The sudden urge to reach out and touch her swept over me, so powerful I couldn't resist. Quietly as I could, I pushed the mirror open. It gave way with a groan and I winced at the sound as I slipped through the opening. The girls slept still, and my precious girl sighed in her sleep. _What I wouldn't give to kiss those lips._ The longing thought passed through my mind as I reached out to caress her soft, smooth cheek. My hand stopped just short of her skin, as if something was restraining it. _What the…!?_ My body turned of its own accord and walked back through the mirror, shutting it quietly before guiding me to the cave again. _NO!_ I howled inwardly. _This isn't what I wanted! I wanted to be with her! Why am I here!? _A voice inside of me answered, "_**You'll bring her here. Do you really want to bring her to a place like this?"**_ I looked around the small stone island and grimaced. The voice inside my head was right. When I had first come to my home, it had been pristine and candlelight danced over the walls, reflecting in the clear, aquamarine water. _The lake used to match her eyes._ But now, there was mold on the walls, clothing strewn about everywhere, candle-holders knocked over, the velvet drapes that had once covered the mirrors were worn and moth eaten, and the lake was a disgusting dingy brownish green. _I've got my work cut out for me don't I? _My nose wrinkled in disgust as I strolled around, accidentally stepping on a half-rotted leg of lamb. "Ugh!" I jerked away, falling on my butt. _As soon as auditions are over, I'm cleaning this place till it shines for her. _A whiff of something gross wafted up to my nostrils. _What the… oh… that's me. _Yet another heavy sigh escaped me as I got up to bathe.

Amanda's POV:

An hour later, I sat up groggily. _I don't remember falling asleep._ I stretched luxuriously and looked around the room to find myself alone. A note was on the nightstand beside me.

**Amanda,**

**Charlotte wanted to wake you up but I dragged her down to breakfast. The shower is down the hall and to the left. See you at breakfast! And remember, we have auditions today afterwards so choose your food wisely.**

**-Marcy**

I smiled as I read. _Nice to know she's looking out for me._ I thought cheerily, standing up to collect my shower stuff from my suitcase. I followed Marcy's instructions carefully, humming a tune. I couldn't quite remember where I'd heard it before, but it was soothing. As I stood under the hot water, I sang quietly. Then it hit me. The man's voice last night. _There was a man in our room last night!_ I nearly fell over in shock. _You big idiot! There was some random guy in your room last night and you didn't do anything about it!? What the heck is wrong with you!?_ A small voice in the back of my mind argued that it was just a voice, and it was pretty, and I was tired, but I pushed it aside, scolding myself for not warning Marcy. _After all she's done for you, _I chastised inwardly, _and you don't even feel the need to warn her about that!? He could've raped us or killed us or something!_

_**But he didn't. **_The voice rang out cold and clear, like a bell, in my mind. My heart rate slowed to normal as the voice washed over me. _No, he didn't. _I reassured, _whoever he is… he has the most amazing voice I've ever heard._ I walked back to my room cautiously; making sure nobody saw my dripping wet and in a towel, then slipped inside. I dressed quickly, throwing on a lace tank top and a long, flowing skirt. Then I made my way to breakfast without even getting lost this time. "Amanda!" Marcy chirped, upon my entering the dining hall, "I saved you a seat next to me!" A small smile spread across my face as I sat next to the perky blonde. "Well you're certainly cheerful."

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

I looked over at her grinning face to make sure she was serious, "last night?"

She made a dismissive gesture with her hand, "oh THAT. That was nothing. Just a bit of tough love for the Prima Donna over there." She jerked her thumb in Charlotte's direction and I followed it. Charlotte was sitting there, scarfing down food as if she hadn't eaten in months. _Well it WOULD explain why she's so skinny._ I chuckled inwardly, looking at the spread before me and choosing some scrambled eggs and sausage for my breakfast. A small bowl of Jalapeños caught my eye, and I spooned some onto my eggs. "Careful not to eat too much," Marcy warned, "you'll get sick, and avoid dairy." I nodded to her, taking a small bite. The food was delicious and I finished it off with a glass of water. "Ladies!" A voice boomed through the hall and everybody turned to face the source. "If you'll follow me this way, the auditions are about to begin." Mme. Gypsy stood before us, her arms covered in what seemed like a hundred metal bangles and a scarf tied over her graying hair. Everybody immediately got up and followed her out of the hall.

"From here on out, until you get on stage, I expect silence," Gypsy said quietly. I bit back a laugh, with the exception of a few whispers, breakfast HAD been silent. _Everybody must be saving their voices._ I thought. Suddenly a wave of nausea passed over me, and my stomach wound itself into a knot. _Why am I nervous all of a sudden? _The feeling of being watched came over me again, adding to my nerves as I glanced around. Everybody's faces were masks of concentration… except Charlotte. I watched as she shoved her way to the front of the group, determined to go first. "Now," Mme. Gypsy said, "when you get onstage, you will curtsy to the headmasters, then the maestro. You will announce your name, the title of the song or dance number you'll be performing, and who the piece is by. Then you shall take your place and wait for the signal to start. Understood? Excellent. Break a leg girls." And with that, the strange old woman danced away, her bracelet's jingling with every step. We watched in silence as Charlotte strolled out onto the stage like she owned it, following Madam's instructions, and began her audition. I winced at the flat notes she produced. Her thin soprano voice rang off the walls. She was so off-key it hurt. I'd never even heard the piece and I could tell it was wrong. I grasped for something nice to think about it. I'd been hoping, for as nasty and mean Charlotte was, she would at least have a decent voice. I struggled to pull my face into an emotionless mask as the headmaster's applauded limply, and Charlotte skipped off-stage with a smug grin on her face. "NEXT!" Monsieur Firmin's voice rang out, and the next girl stepped forward.

It seemed to take forever for Marcy and I to reach the front of the line. And with each girl that went, my nervousness grew. With the exception of Charlotte, the girl's had been exceptionally talented. I made a thumbs up at Marcy as she walked out onstage with confidence. She did as she was told, bowed, said her name and her piece. Then, upon the headmaster's signal, she began to dance. _She's amazing!_ I stood there, watching in awe as the blonde girl twirled around the stage. As she finished her dance, she curtsied again, and danced off stage in that same way her mother had. "Next!" The headmaster called, and I stepped out on stage. The feeling of being watched increased as I stood under the stage lights. I could hear the girls in the wings, chatting away without a care. I did as instructed, waited for the signal, and began to sing.

(OOH cliff hanger. What will happen next I wonder? Hehehehe. Don't kill me. Chapter seven will be up soon!)


	7. Chapter 7: Why so Silent?

Chapter Seven: Why so Silent?

(Finally the moment of truth, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I do not own phantom of the opera nor any of its characters. Please leave me a review! I always love hearing what people think. I also do not own rights to any of the songs my characters sing. Thank you and enjoy)

Phantom's POV:

My ears were still ringing from Charlotte's terribly off-key rendition of Brukner's Os Justi as I watched the auditions. _They all sound the same_. I cringed inwardly as yet another soprano strained to reach a high C and cracked. _This is why I hate sopranos._ The dancers were a welcome relief between the shrieking voices. I watched as Marcy danced across the stage. All of her mother's grace and fluidity, and then some, shined through in every single step she took. _I don't think I can stand anymore sopranos_, I thought as I stood to leave my hiding space and the chattering girls below. Just as I reached the exit, the opera house fell silent. I whipped around to find HER, standing there on the stage, with the most glorious rendition of the Ave Maria pouring from her full, pink lips. My jaw dropped as her low, rich, lilting voice rang through the theater. _Oh. My. God._

Amanda's POV:

The silence washed over me as I sang. It rang in my ears as my voice hit the highs and lows of the song. _Good thing I lowered the key by a few octaves or I wouldn't have ever been able to hit half of this._ I looked around the theater. The orchestra didn't play. The maestro and headmasters were just sitting at the base of the stage; their jaws gaping open in shock. _Do I sound that bad?_ I looked towards Marcy for some sign of reassurance, and was met with a wide spread grin that looked like it would split her face in half if it grew anymore. My nervousness dissipated immediately and I threw myself into the music. It wrapped around me like an old jacket. The notes rolled off my tongue, high and low, as I belted it out for all I was worth. The piece was finished far too soon. Disappointment drifted over my head for a moment as the headmasters thanked me and I walked off stage. But it was forced away by Marcy, who swept me up into a bruising hug as soon as I came near. "You were AMAZING! Why didn't you tell anyone you sounded like THAT!?" A flock of girls swarmed around me, calling out questions and congratulations galore. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Charlotte standing with a small group of equally snobby looking girls in designer jeans, glaring at me with pure hatred. _What bit her in the butt?_ I wondered. _You don't glare at somebody like that just because they had a decent audition._ The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I felt an intense gaze on my back and I whipped around to find out who was staring at me. All that I saw was a creamy, white envelope drifting slowly down from the rafters. I watched, my curiosity pushing me to move closer, as Mme. Gypsy appeared from nowhere, and scooped up the note. "Monsieur Firmin!" She called out in her warm, bell-toned voice, "you have a message sir, from the Opera Ghost." I watched Monsieur's face drain of blood and his eyes widen in fear. Monsieur Andre looked like he was having a seizure, as he had started shivering and twitching violently. I looked to the gypsy to see her reaction, and was surprised to find a smug grin crinkling the corners of her eyes. Silence fell over the students once more. I leaned over to Marcy and whispered, "What's the opera ghost?" Every eye in the room snapped to me, and I felt their gazes burning through me like paper.

"The Opera Ghost," the headmaster said, stepping onstage to snatch the letter from Madam, "is a myth. A legend as old as the opera house itself." He began to tear the letter, rage raising the color in his face as well as his voice. He finished with a shout, "he. Does not. Exist. Are we clear?" I nodded slowly, cringing back as he answered my question with a biting tone. Madam cleared her throat behind him, drawing his attention from me. Then, in a tone as icy as the tundra, she hissed, "you're wrong." The gypsy turned on her heel, and walked off the stage, leaving us with our very upset headmasters. Firmin turned to us and ordered us to our rooms till lunch. "I don't want to see or hear any of you till then. Are we clear?" I stood silent as the girls chorused, "yessir," behind me. The headmaster walked up to me, menacingly. "I said, are we clear, Mademoiselle Hawthorne?" I nodded silently as his breath wash over me, hot and foul. "Good," he said, straightening, "you're dismissed! Now all of you, to your dorms!" He pointed with a finger, and we followed; our eyes down, and our voices muted. As I left though, I heard Monsieur Firmin say, "He's back." His tone was that of a man before the gallows. A shiver ran down my spine as I left the auditorium.

_Of course I'd get lost again. Of course. Why on earth I can't I just stick with the group? It's not that difficult. _I wandered down yet another unfamiliar corridor, trying to find my room, and being as quiet as possible. I didn't want to find out what would happen if I got caught. The headmasters seemed very upset and I did not want that directed at me. I turned left down a hallway, not really paying much attention. I was too wrapped up in my thoughts, that is, until I ran smack into Madam Giry. "Ow!" I let out a yelp as I fell flat on my butt. The older woman chuckled, offering a hand to help me up, "what're you doing out here silly girl?" I took her hand, pulling myself up, and brushing myself off. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, "please don't tell the headmasters." I jumped about a foot when her booming laugh surrounded me. "Those old coots won't hear a word from me hon. Are you lost?" I flushed an even deeper shade of red as I nodded shyly. She paused and I looked up, only to find her straining to keep from laughing. "S'not funny," I mumbled. Madam Gypsy coughed, straitening herself. "You're right. I apologize." She looked down on me with a mischievous glint in her eyes, and pointed down a hallway to her right. "Follow that passageway and take a right at the end. Keep following straight on through and you'll find where you should be." The eerie tone had returned to her voice and I smiled nervously, "thanks." I didn't waste any time in scurrying down the hallway and to the right. _This does feel familiar,_ I thought vaguely as I followed the instructions I had been given. The tunnel grew damp and I found myself on the edge of a massive lake. "Hello?" I called out uncertainly.

Phantom's POV:

"The fools!" I bellowed, remembering how the walrus-moustached, old codger had ripped up my letter for Amanda. I just wanted to speak to her, somehow, and writing seemed to be the only way I could. I sat there on my hands and knees, where I had been for almost an hour and a half, cleaning. The gypsy had shown up earlier and helped. _I have to remember to thank her._ The gypsy had changed the lake to a muted green, not quite the shade it usually was, but much improved. The cave looked almost exactly as it had when I arrived the first time, if not a bit rusted. Fresh candles cast their soft light around the room and new velvet covered the mirrors. The bedroom was squared away. Everything was presentable at least. I stood up, storing my brush and bucket behind the massive organ, and went to change. Feeling theatric, I selected a pair of tight black trousers, a puffy, white, ruffled shirt that fell open to expose my chest, and of course my mask. _Thank goodness I decided to stay in shape._ I already had a hideous face; a wretched body wouldn't go over well. "Hello?" I turned around. _Did somebody just?_ "Hello!?" The voice called stronger, calling my gaze to the edge of the lake. There she stood, her long white skirt and lacey top accentuating every last curve of her gorgeous form. "Can I help you with something Mademoiselle?" I called to her. Her shocked blue eyes met mine and she flushed scarlet. "I'm kind of… lost… Madam Gypsy told me if I went this way I'd find my room." _Clever old hag, _I thought with a smile. Another reason to thank her. "I believe she sent you here for assistance young miss." I watched as she hesitantly stepped forward in the flickering light. She looked so beautiful in candle-light. It flickered over her pale skin and danced in her eyes. My insides melted as I watched her walk forward. "You don't have to be afraid young lady, I won't hurt you." Her hesitance was adorable, but I longed to have her closer to me. "It's not that," she responded, "I can't cross." _You idiot!_ I cursed myself, forcing a smile onto my lips. "Forgive me. My mind was elsewhere. Give me a moment and I shall be more than happy to help you across." Fumbling around for a moment, I found the staff to move the gondola. I'd scrubbed the mahogany vessel till it shone earlier. I stepped into the boat and pushed myself across. "Thank you," she muttered shyly. _Oh her voice is like music. _My heart pounded in my chest, loud enough to hear it. I swear it echoed off the walls as I offered her my hand to help her into the boat.

Amanda's POV:

_Who is he?_ I stepped into the boat, holding the hand he offered for support. He seemed so familiar. I studied him curiously. He was handsome. At least 6'3 with a lean, muscular frame that showed very clearly through his shirt. He dressed very strangely, old-fashioned, but it suited him. His thick black hair was slicked back; it curled gently at the ends, and poked through where the gel had cracked. My eyes wandered over him, drinking him in. _Cute butt_. I bit back a giggle as I admired him. _Why does he seem so familiar?_ I pondered as I began to study his face. _Strong jaw with a little stubble, full lips, a straight nose, high cheekbones, a white mask obscuring his face._ I wondered for a moment why he wore it, but I decided not to be rude by asking. He turned away from me, blocking my view, and began to steer the gondola. When we reached the island, he offered his hand once more, and our eyes met. The candlelight surrounding us danced in the sapphire depths, and I realized where I knew him from.

(Read and Review. And if you like it: please help me get more readers through a bit of helpful advertising. Thank you all so much! I hope you like it! And chapter eight will be up as soon as I can manage!)


	8. Chapter 8: The Man from the Dreams

Chapter Eight: The Man from the Dreams.

(Chapter Eight! I feel so accomplished. I'm hoping to get more readers soon, but if not, that's fine too. I really hope you guys like this Chapter. I do not own POTO, any of its characters, nor any of the songs that show up in this story. Enjoy –Sincerely: K-Chan.)

Amanda's POV:

I stood there staring up at the man who had been haunting me for weeks. The men who I had watched die almost a hundred times. My stomach twisted and my knees gave out beneath me. I dropped to the floor, my head spinning, and threw up my breakfast into the lake. I sat there, heaving, till long after my stomach had emptied. "Are you alright?" His voiced reverberated off the walls. I nodded, trying to stand. "Whoa there, easy." He caught me as I swooned. I managed a hoarse, "thanks." Suddenly, my feet were swept up from under me and I was lifted up into a pair of strong arms. "You should rest Miss Hawthorne. You've had a very exciting morning."

"How do you-?"

"No, no questions. Rest Angel." His voice was stern, standing out in my swimming thoughts. He started humming softly and sleep immediately claimed me, deep and dreamless.

I sat bolt upright, "where am I?" Scanning my surroundings, I found that I was in my room. Marcy was sitting next to me, with a wet cloth in her hand. "Lay back," she ordered gently, applying slight pressure to my chest. I fell back obediently. "You're very sick. I told you to avoid dairy at breakfast," she chided. Marcy dabbed the wet cloth over my temples. I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. "The eggs had milk in them to make them fluffier." _Oh. Wait, where's that guy!? The one from my dreams! _Panic set in, and I tried to sit up. "Lay back," Marcy hissed firmly, pushing me down again, "you passed out on the way to the room after vomiting all over the wall. I had to get Maman to help carry you back." I shook my head violently in protest. _Well that wasn't smart,_ I thought as stars appeared before my eyes. But I spoke still, "no. I-I got lost and the gypsy told me how to get back to the room. But I ended up at this big underground lake, and there was this guy and-" Marcy cut me off again, "you must've been dreaming sweetie. Get some rest. "I'll wake you up when it's time for dinner."

Phantom's POV:

I flinched as I watched her vomit into the water, not knowing what to do for her. _Must've been all the cleansers._ She stood weakly, and fell backwards. I reached out to catch her. Her half open eyes shone up at me like turquoise gems. "Thanks," she whispered. _Oh my dear sweet Amanda._ Without being aware of it, I had swept her up, cradling her trembling form against my chest. She looked so sick, her face flushed with heat. "Rest Angel." She struggled weakly against the spell of sleep that would heal her. _Rest please,_ I begged her silently as I began to hum softly. A tune I had never heard, that made itself up as it went along. My eyes never left her angelic face, even when she sighed happily and fell into the blissful darkness of sleep. _I'll have to write this one down._ I stood behind the mirror to her room and knocked three times as quietly as I could manage. I watched her roommates' heads pop up, and Marcy's eyes darted to the mirror. "Charlotte, I think your friends are knocking for you." The dark-haired girl let out a pretentious snort, rising from her bed, "good. I was sick of being stuck in here with you." The girl left, her nose stuck into the air like a tree branch in winter.

As soon as she was gone, Marcy darted over to the mirror, sliding it open with ease. "What happened!?" She exclaimed at the sight of Amanda's limp form in my arms. "She got sick and threw up in the cave. I think all the cleansers might've been too much for her." Marcy raised an eyebrow, "did I hear correctly? The great Erik Destler, cleaning?" I flushed. "Your mother helped a bit." Marcy's grin grew even wider. "Shut up," I mumbled under my breath as I set Amanda on the bed as gently as possible. The urge to kiss her swept over me again, stronger this time. I leaned down, pressing my lips tenderly to her forehead, and turned to leave. I heard her mumble my name in her sleep, and a sigh escaped me as I slipped through the door.

The passageway back to the cave was colder without her. "How," I wondered aloud, running a hand over my gelled hair, "could I fall so fast?" I closed my eyes, and found hers behind them. The color of the lake. Blue and green, with a ring of gold around her pupils. Those wide hazel eyes haunted me to no end. _God she's beautiful._ I imagined her with my eyes closed. Standing there all in white, her delicious curves highlighted by the long flowing skirt. It had hung off her hips like a waterfall. The material was thin enough that I could see the outlines of her legs, but not so thin that it was inappropriate.

"So perfect," I whispered in the dark, emptiness, "so perfect." Her smile, straight white teeth surrounded by full, pink lips that looked so incredibly soft. How I longed to kiss those lips. My clothes felt tight, and it was hard to breathe suddenly. Just the thought of her perfect lips against mine was enough. It was maddening. I had never experienced such a feeling before in my lifetime. This need was going to drive me insane. I had to see her again. _I must have her._

Amanda's POV:

Marcy and I walked arm in arm down to dinner. You could hear the girls before you even turned the corner to the dining hall. Girls were chattering excitedly, each trying to be heard over the other. I looked at Marcy and smiled nervously. "You okay?" She asked. I nodded stubbornly. My stomach still felt a little weak from my earlier nausea, but other than that I was fine. Until we entered the hall, that is. As soon as the door opened, silence fell over the other girls and their eyes were all on me. I felt the heat creeping up my neck to color my face a matching shade to that of my hair. "Why are they staring at me?" I whispered to Marcy. "Well you did vanish for four and a half hours Amanda, what did you expect?" The gypsy's voice rang out behind me. _Did she have to be so loud? _Somebody spoke up, "we thought the phantom got you." I sought out the source of the voice. My eyes lit on a small, raven-haired girl. "Phantom?" I asked, confused. The girl's eyes met mine with a look that questioned my intelligence. "The Phantom," another girl piped up, "is the self proclaimed owner of the opera house. He's runs around in a white mask to cover up his mangled face. And every thirty years, he chooses a girl to take as his student. She always ends up the best singer in the opera house. Then some super hot guy shows up, she falls in love with him, and they run away. Shortly after, the Phantom is found hanging from the rafters of the stage, without his mask." _A white mask? Could it be?_

"But if he dies, then how does he find a new girl?" I asked. "He is reincarnated into another." Once more, Madam's voice answered me. "And each girl is specifically made for him to fall in love with. But she always chooses another, so he kills himself, and her lover. Until the day, she chooses to love him back." All the girl's stared at her. "That's so romantic." One of them sighed. "Yeah in a really creepy way." One of Charlotte's crew sneered. "Either way," this time Charlotte herself spoke, "I'm going to be the one he picks. With my wealth and beauty, not to mention my incredible voice, it's sure to me." Her cold, black eyes lit on me, "after all, he always takes a soprano." Cold washed over me as an icy smile spread over her hateful face. "Just ignore her," Marcy said, pulling on my frozen hand. She dragged me to a seat and started to serve herself from the remains of the spread. I remained standing, "I'm not hungry. I think I need to lie down." Marcy looked at me worriedly, "need help getting back?"

"I'll take her." Marcy's eyes snapped to her mother, and she nodded. "Come," I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I nodded woodenly, and followed her out. _I met him. The Phantom. He seemed so kind. Not at all the type to commit murder, or suicide. _Pain shot through my heart as I thought of his tall body, hanging above the stage, with his blue eye staring empty. _All because of somebody like Charlotte._ I thought. My eyes stung with tears. _I wish I could help him._ "Why so silent?" Madam's voice pulled me from my thoughts. She looked back at me from over her shoulder. "Now child don't cry." Gypsy stopped and wiped a tear from my cheek. I sniffled, "it's so sad though. The thought of him ending up with somebody like Charlotte; of being doomed to love and never have it returned, it's awful. " A kind smilelit up the old woman's eyes, a touch of mischief shining in their depths. "He won't end up with somebody like her darling." The certainty in her voice threw me off, and I stared at her, waiting for an explanation. "How do you know?" Her smile grew, "because he has already chosen you."

(Bum bum bum! Lol okay so not really. But hey I was trying to get things in motion. I got the feeling it was moving a little too slow. So yeah. Don't be mad. I'll post again soon. Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and tell your friends/ readers so I can get a little more traffic. And please check out my short little poem, Waiting in the Wings.)


	9. Chapter 9: Dreaming of Music

Chapter Nine: Dreaming of Music

(Alrighty guys! Chapter nine here we go. I'm gonna try to make this one a bit longer because I now realize that my chapters have been absurdly short. My apologies for that. I'm trying to fix it. But this IS only my first story. There will be many other fanfics to come I assure you. I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters nor any of the music used in this story. Enjoy!)

Amanda's POV:

I stared the older woman, my mouth agape in shock. "What do you mean Madam Gypsy?" She stood there, saying nothing, with a secretive smile playing across her lips. "I've said too much already." I glowered at her. "I'm tired of these games."

"Oh?" She teased, raising a questioning eyebrow. I nodded. I could feel the corners of my mouth being pulled into a frown as I turned to walk away. "Which game? The one where you see him in your dreams? Or the one where I know everything, yet tell you nothing, my little American friend?" I turned around to glare at her. The way she said "American" sounded like an insult. An angry hiss danced through my gritted teeth. The smile hadn't left her lips. "What do you mean by you know everything?"

"I know why you were chosen. I know who he is. I know what his fate is. I know how this will end. I know who you choose. And most importantly, I know what's under the mask. But you, my dear little girl, are going to have to wait to find out." Pain flashed through me. "I already know how it ends," I said with a brokenhearted whisper. Tears stung my eyes. "Perhaps you do. Perhaps you don't. We shall see." _Dammit, this crazy old lady is gonna drive me nuts with all this. I just wanna go back to my room and lay down. Or go take a nice, hot shower. _A small voice in my mind interjected, "_Or see him again. Yeah you should definitely go see him again. Like now._" The gypsy's smile widened as if she read my mind. "So attached to him already? How cute." I looked up at her, wide-eyed and slightly irritated. A small voice that I didn't recognize as my own squeaked out, "can I see him?" Madam shook her head no, "not today child." She pointed to the door to my room down the hall. "For now, you need to relax. We can't have you getting sick the next time you meet him, now can we?" I shook my head slowly, and her smile grew gentle. She gestured again towards the door at the end of the corridor. This time, I did as expected and trudged quietly to my room, looking back at her over my shoulder as I reached the door. She waved good bye and made a shooing motion at me. I sighed loudly as I stepped into my room.

_I guess I'll go take a shower then. _I piled my hair on top of my head, securing it with a clip, and gathered my things. I stripped down in my room and wrapped my silk robe around me before leaving my room. I spent what felt like hours in the shower; just letting the hot water and steam relax my exhausted muscles. _Will everyday be this stressful? I hope not._ Thinking I had better get out, I returned to my room, only to find that it was empty. Sighing again, I pulled a thin silk nightgown from my case. The white material felt good on my hot skin. I admired myself in the mirror for a moment, before wrapping myself back up in my robe. _Not exactly what my roommates want to see._ I thought absently, sitting down on my bed. "Ouch!" I gave out a little yelp and jerked my hand away as soon as I set it down. Right where my hand had been was a perfect red rose tied with a black ribbon. "Shit," I sneezed. I was allergic to roses. It's why I preferred lilies. The door to my room opened as I backed away from the bed, sneezing over and over. The rose's pollen was on my hand and my skin was red where the thorns had pricked me. "Amanda?" Marcy's worried tone wrapped around my ears, "what's wrong?"

"I'm *ah-choo* allergic to *ah-choo* roses *AH-CHOO!*" I sneezed my way through the sentence and watched with watery eyes as Marcy threw the offending thing away. I stood there, backed up against the mirror, and she threw an apologetic look towards me. "Most girls love roses," Marcy said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that you can't have them."

I shook my head with a smile, "it's fine. I like white lilies better anyways." She nodded. "Did you put the flower there?"

"No," She shook her blonde head, "the Phantom leaves them for the girl he chooses." That's when Charlotte burst into the room, her nasally voice at top volume, "there's a rose!? For me!? Where!? Where!?"

"It was on my bed," I said quietly, "the gypsy was right." I slid down the mirror till I sat at its base. Charlotte's nose wrinkled, "why would he leave it for some ugly, fat, peasant like you? You're not even a soprano. You couldn't hit a high C if you tried." My head snapped up. _She did __**not**__ just call me fat._ I opened my mouth wide and let out a high C that rang through the room. Charlotte's smug grin crumbled into a look of disbelief. "I may not be a soprano, you spoiled brat, but I sure as hell can hit that note better than you," I hissed at her gaping-jawed face. A chuckle rang out through the room, a distinctly male one. My entire body snapped to attention; I whipped around to find the source of the noise. A glimpse of his white mask in the mirror was all I saw of him for the rest of the night.

Phantom's POV:

I watched the gypsy walk my angel back to her room. The sweet girls blue eyes looked crestfallen as she followed. _How can I make her smile?_ I wondered. Her sad expression tore my heart to shreds. I raced back to the cave as quick as I could, yanking down journals from a hidden bookshelf along one of the walls. I scanned through them hastily. Each book gave the same answer for cheering her up: flowers. But not just any flower, oh no, it was always a single red rose from the garden behind one of the mirrors in the cave, tied with a black ribbon. _Black and red is far too dismal for her. But if it's worked so far, then who am I to argue it? _I slid open on of the mirror in my lair. The garden lay before me, under the filtering sunlight of an over large sewer grate, the light amplified by a dozen mirrors that lined the walls. I had spent many days in this room, tearing up old flower beds. The entire room had been roses when I'd arrived. I hated roses. I left only one bush in the very back of my garden, preferring the room the room be filled with many different flowers. I had created a small stream to grow water lilies and cattails. A bench sat in the center of the garden as a place to rest. Normally, I would sit in the garden for hours and meditate, but today I went straight to the roses. I chose the fullest of blossoms and clipped it from the branch. I hastily tied a black ribbon around it, and then raced up to her room. The room was empty. "Where'd she go?" I whispered to nobody as I slipped into the room. I glanced around and saw several of her things missing. "Maybe she left to bathe." The thought of her in the shower did strange things to my body. I pushed the dirty thoughts away, refusing to disgrace her like that. It was rude to fantasize about a woman when she didn't love you. I set the rose on her bed. The vibrant red petals stood out like fresh blood on her white sheets. I cringed inwardly, hating the rose, but hoping she would like it.

Foot steps rang out behind the door and I darted out of the room, watching as my angel entered. Her silky robe clung to her wet skin and I sighed. My body burned and ached as I watched her peel the material off one shoulder. Heat crept up my neck and I closed my eyes. I wanted to stay and see her reaction to the flower but seeing her like this was far beyond the limits of what was appropriate. I glanced up a few minute later and she was dressed again, wrapping her robe around her once more. She sat down on the bed and her delicate hand landed directly on the thorny stem of the rose. She cried out in pain and looked down. My angel's eyes grew wide as she stepped away from the flower, sneezing violently. Moments later the gypsy's daughter entered, demanding to know what was wrong. "I'm allergic to roses," my precious angel managed to sneeze out. Marcy flash an apologetic look at me through the mirror as she threw the flower away. My heart clenched._ What am I going to do now? I can't even give her flowers._ Then my angel's voice spoke, her back against the mirror, "I prefer white lilies." A sigh of relief rushed out of my lungs. I had plenty of lilies. Dozens of them really. Their long, lush petals were pleasing to the eye and their fragrance was alluring. I turned quickly, rushing back to cave, planning to tear out that rosebush and plant a new flower in its place.

Amanda's POV:

The next few weeks were a blur of music lessons, dancing, and new friends. By the end of my first month, I knew so many people that I was starting to get names mixed up. Marcy, on the other hand, remembered everybody. She was popular amongst the girls. It was no mystery why, not with her constantly smiling face and innumerable encouragements. Charlotte packed up her stuff and moved into a room with one of her snooty friends, and the only interaction we had had since the night with the rose was her glaring at me when our paths happened to cross. Everybody was improving steadily, except me for some reason. I was falling behind rapidly in class, my voice staying just where it had been when I'd arrived at the school. Marcy encouraged me to press on, but my hopes were falling. One day as we ate, it all became too much. "I want to go home," I mumbled to my blonde best friend. Her wide brown eyes flew open in shock and she dropped her fork. "Why!? It's almost visiting month! And you've gotten a little better."

I scoffed, "please. I'm still where I was a month ago. I can't learn anything!"

Marcy's face fell and she mumbled under her breath. "What?" I asked, leaning in. "Maybe you just have the wrong teacher," she whispered, "My mother knows somebody. He can teach you, I know he can." She peeked up at me from under her thick blonde lashes and smiled. I let out a sigh of defeat and gave into a smile. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

Later that evening, I waited alone in my room, dressed in a white blouse and dark jeans as Madam Gypsy instructed. My eyes grew heavy as the clock reached near midnight. Marcy was sleeping in her mother's chambers that night, so I could be alone with my teacher. When he called for me, I was to sing back so he could hear my voice and decide if he wanted to take me as a student or not. I was about to give up hope when a strong, familiar voice called out, "sing for me." I looked around frantically, "where are you?"

"Sing now," the voice replied, ignoring my question. I opened my mouth obediently, and sang a low sweet tune that I had never heard before in my life. "Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of music, hide no longer. Come to me strange angel." He sang in reply, "I am your angel of music. Come to me angel of music." He repeated it softly, and I stood. My feet were dragged inexplicably forward towards my mirror, and I watched in awe as a leather-clad hand protruded through the glass. _That's impossible!_ My mind screamed as I continued to move forward towards the looking glass. I hesitated for only a moment before placing my hand into his warm grasp. And then, I was pulled through. I held my breath till I was safely on the other side. Once there, I found myself staring into the blue eyes of the Phantom, as we stood in the middle of a glittering golden hallway. "This way Amanda." My name fell from his full lips like a silk ribbon. I followed automatically; my body responding to his commands before my mind even registered them. _God he's sexy_ I clung to his hand as he led me down the glittering hallway. His eyes never left mine. Unsung music raced through my mind. It rung in my ears as loudly as if somebody had sang it. Two voices in my head, entwined in a harmony so perfect it mesmerized me. "You hear it too," he whispered in the silence, sweeping me off my feet to carry me down a set of stairs.

"Yes Sir," I breathed. His scent wrapped around me. He smelled like candle wax and earth and something else I couldn't quite name. It was divine and comforting. I stared up into his eyes, not saying a word, just drinking him in. His dark hair was slicked back immaculately, and slight stubble coated his strong chin. His strong, square-cut jaw was set in determination. This was without a doubt the handsomest man I'd ever seen in my life. His arms flexed slightly as he shifted my position to something more comfortable. I could feel his massive biceps under the old fashioned clothes he wore. This man looked like the prince charming in faerytales. I hesitated slightly before wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging to him instinctively. _What the hell are you doing Amanda!? You don't even know this man!_ My mind was screaming at me furiously, but my body refused to respond. _**On the contrary,**_ the small voice in my mind answered, _**we know him rather well. Don't we Amanda?**_ I nodded in spite of myself. Something about this man felt right, as if I'd known him for centuries. He stiffened slightly under my touch, and then slowly lowered me into a boat. The same gondola from last time. My heart thudded in my chest loudly enough to hear as he used a staff to drag us along. "Do you know why you cannot learn from the others?" He mumbled huskily. I shook my head shyly, "no sir."

The corner of his mouth quirked up and he glance at me over his shoulder, "it's because they weren't me. From the moment you entered my Opera house, you were destined to become my student. To sing only for me, to sing my music." I nodded slowly, understanding his words strangely enough. The gondola bumped against the stone island and the memory of last time washed over me. I flushed red in embarrassment, taking the hand he offered. I tripped as I tried to step onto the small dock, and fell into his strong arms again. I felt his heart racing under my hand. I looked up, my cheeks even redder from my fall, and his eyes burned down into mine. We were so close I could feel his breath on my face. It washed over me sweetly. Something inside him crumbled in his sapphire eyes. He pulled me even closer into an embrace, "you belong to me." His rough command had barely been uttered before I stretched up on my toes on impulse, and pressed my lips against his.

Phantom's POV:

I froze as her soft lips pressed cautiously against mine. _What do I do?_ I could feel my heart beat like hummingbird's wings. I'd never been kissed before. The delicious sensation washed over me, pulling every indecent thought I'd locked away to the front of my mind. A low, guttural moan tore out of me as I pulled her ever closer. She tasted so sweet. Her soft body pressed against my own, awakening desire that I hadn't experienced before. I wanted to ravish her right then and there. _No, this isn't right._ It took all my strength to push her away. We stood there panting for a moment. Her eyes filled with tears. Hurt and rejection glazed over her expression, "is something wrong?" I shook my head slowly, trying to use a soothing tone. "I am your teacher. This behavior is distracting to your studies." Disappointment colored my voice, and I cringed inwardly at the pain in her expression. _**Remember she is destined to love another. **_Cold washed over me at the reminder. I went numb as I held my hand out to her, "let us begin."

(Okay so I was a little naughty, and went ahead and had her kiss him. I just couldn't wait any longer! I wanted to do a kiss scene. The next one, IF there is a next one, will be much more romantic. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and check out my beauty and the beast/ phantom crossover poem: Waiting in the Wings. Chapter ten will be up ASAP.)


	10. Chapter 10: Unsung Songs

Chapter Ten: Unsung Songs

(Here it is, my tenth chapter… I'm so grateful to my readers and everybody who's been helping me out for all this time. Please read and review. I hope you enjoy. Let's see if I can beat the three thousand words from my last chapter. I do not own POTO, its characters, nor any of the songs I'm using in my story. Thanks for reading!)

Amanda's POV:

I was still stinging from the rejection. He had kissed me back, and then pushed me away. Like he was repulsed by me touching him. _What did you expect, kissing a guy that you barely just met? Come on Amanda, think. _My head was buzzing. It'd been years since I'd willingly kissed somebody. To be pushed away like that hurt, badly. But I swallowed my tongue, and followed him as he asked, over to a massive pipe organ. He started me off on scales, climbing higher and higher in my range then down again. It didn't take very long for him to stop, slamming the keys in frustration. "You're better than this Amanda. I know you are. I heard your audition." His blue eyes pierced mine. "I'm sorry Sir." I lowered my gaze to the floor, hiding my burning cheeks. I really wanted to impress him. "We'll try again tomorrow," his low voice rumbled. "No!" I cried out. Shock colored his gaze and our eyes met. The automatic attraction flashed through me; white hot like lightening. There were flakes of gold in his blue eyes. _Don't kiss him._ My mind reminded me. "I don't want to go."

Phantom's POV:

"I don't want to go," Amanda said. Her voice was barely a whisper; I had to lean in to hear. Her scent wrapped around me. Sandalwood, I inhaled deeply. My body was pulled towards her. I wanted to continue our kiss from earlier, but I couldn't rush into this. I couldn't let myself fully fall for her. Her eyes closed, her long lashes cast shadows over her cheeks. My body leaned forward on its own. My hand caressed her cheek and her surprised eyes found mine. _No!_ The strange voice in my head screamed, _you cannot do this! You are a monster! She'll never love you! Stop! Stop!_ My body didn't listen as I cupped her delicate face in my hand. I leaned down, closing my eyes, my heart racing out of control. "You're supposed to be teaching her, not romancing her Erik." A stern voice rang out and we sprang apart. My pulse raced in my ears. The gypsy stood just behind my Angel, a mischievous grin painted across her face. "Dammit Gypsy! Don't do that!" I hollered. _She always comes at the worst time._ "People are looking for her, so I came to collect. She can't miss all her lessons to stay down here and play hooky with you loverboy." Heat crept up my cheeks as I flushed with embarrassment. "She kissed me," I blurted, "I did not condone this, so stay your tongue Gypsy." A hurt whimper sounded from beside me and I turned my head to see Amanda taking a step away from me; her face an expressionless mask. _Dammit, why'd you say that you big idiot!?_ "Take me back, please. I can see I'm not wanted here." The words fell from her lips like ice shards, and each one stabbed me through the heart. Like an idiot, I stood there, saying nothing as the gypsy led my angel away. "DAMMIT!" I bellowed. My voice echoed off the cavern walls, ringing out in a chorus of my regret. I dropped to my knees, slamming my fists into the ground, my teeth grinding in frustration. _It's all for the best_, the voice in my head soothed, _she's not meant for you. You're a monster. A demon. An angel can never love a demon._ "I know," I whispered, "I know." And then, the tears started falling.

Amanda's POV:

"DAMMIT!" The anguished cry chased me down the tunnels as I followed Madam Gypsy. A small smile quirked up the corner of her lip, "he really should learn to think before speaking." She chuckled. I lowered my gaze to the floor, not amused. _Patience child, he'll come around soon enough._ "He's so cute when he's embarrassed." Gypsy chuckled. I lifted my gaze slowly, "what do you mean?" The older woman grinned at me over her shoulder, "Erik, he's adorable when he's like that. Been that way since he was a child. Short-tempered, irritated, easily embarrassed, and all too cute. So don't mind him sweet girl, he definitely likes you. His inner demons just won't let him admit it." She winked at me and something warm curled in the pit of my stomach. "Are you sure?" I asked shakily. "What's not to like?" She replied with a grin that could have lit up Paris.

The next thing I knew, it was morning. I woke up slowly, exhausted from last night's events, believing them to be dreams. But as I lifted my face from the pillow, I found a white lily resting on the pillow beside me. Lifting the flower gingerly brought the memories flooding back, the music, the man, and the kiss. Heat flooded my cheeks, "oh. My. God. I can't believe I did that!" I hid my face in my hands, the lily falling from my fingertips. "What's wrong?" Marcy's voice came from behind me. I could hear the smile in her tone. I turned to her, blushing furiously. Her grin was threatening to split her face in two. "Just like your mother," I mumbled, brushing past her to grab my shower things. "I resent that," she said, mocking pain in her voice, "I'm not a gossip like she is." I froze.

"Who did she tell?"

"Just me. The headmaster's get to know later on if Erik chooses you," her grin widened further, "not that there's any doubt that he will." My blush grew steadily hotter. "You're enjoying this far too much," I hissed through my teeth. Her blonde head bobbed up and down as she nodded with a face splitting grin. "You're fun to tease." She giggled. I narrowed my eyes at her, "you know, you used to be a lot nicer than this." Marcy blinked at me in shock, and then proceeded to erupt into laughter. After a few moments, I joined her. It felt good to laugh; even if I had no clue why I was laughing. All the tension evaporated from my body and soon we were both doubled over, holding our sides as we giggled.

Later on, after lights out, we talked quietly in the dark about Erik.

"So this has been happening for how long?" I turned on my side in the blackness, so I faced Marcy's bed. I heard her shifting for awhile before she answered. "Almost a hundred and fifty years."

"And he's ALWAYS gonna be watching me?"

"Oh yeah. In classes, while you eat, even in the shower; he'll be there, watching your every move." I heard her giggle slightly as a blush crept up my face. "What's so funny?" I hissed a little more sharply than I intended. But my roommate wasn't fazed in the slightest, "he starts following them immediately once they enter the house. So he's probably already seen you naked dozens of times."

"WHAT!?" I sat bolt upright.

Phantom's POV:

"Dammit Marcy," I hissed from behind the mirror, "why did you hafta go and say that!?" I blushed violently, cursing the blonde twit silently. _She's never gonna kiss me again if she thinks I'm some kind of creeper! I purposely avoided doing exactly that so when the time came, IF the time came, she'd show me her body willingly. _I heard the rustle of cotton sheets and the creak of the bedspring as one of them stood. "Do you really think he has?" my angel's voice floated to me through the darkness. The barest outline of her face appeared in the mirror, her hand pressed against the glass. I pressed mine against hers, the only thing separating her and I was that thin layer, and rested my forehead against the glass. "No," I sobbed. My entire being screamed for me to push aside the door and embrace her, tell her it wasn't true, but I resisted. I didn't want Amanda to think I was obsessed; though I was almost certain that that was quickly becoming the case. She shadowed every thought in my mind. I glanced up to meet her eyes and she turned from me unknowingly. Biting back another sob, I turned from the glass and started towards my island. I had never felt so imprisoned there before, till now. Then again, before now she hadn't haunted me. "I need sleep," I said to myself, trying to convince my body with words. "I can't take care of her if I'm exhausted." Undressing quickly, I settled down into the crow shaped bed, pulling the velvet coverlet over my partially clothed body, and stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity before finally settling into sleep.

(Author warning: This next scene contains sexually explicit content. All readers under 18 should skip ahead two paragraphs. This story is rated M for a reason people. Don't say I didn't warn you.)

I sat straight up in bed, what seemed like only minutes later, from the resounding noise of a single crashing candelabrum. "Who dares disturb me!?" I bellowed. _Wow that sounded stupid._ A giggle rang out through the darkness, and suddenly she was there, standing before me in that white silk robe. My whole body tensed, every nerve going on red alert at the sight of her. _My mask!_ I had removed it before laying down to rest, and now she could see everything. The look on her face showed no recognition of my scar, but regardless of that, I began to search frantically for it. Her chuckle teased my ears with its sweetness as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the bedside mirror. The hideous infection was gone. Only my old scar remained. Elation and relief rushed over me. "What'cha lookin' for?" I turned my gaze back to her, "nothing angel. What're you doing here? It's late, and you need your rest." A slow seductive smile played over her angelic features. She licked her lips slowly, and her tongue suddenly became the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen. My sleeping trousers began to grow tight as she spoke, "couldn't sleep. I wanted to see you again." The world around her became blurred as her robe slipped, exposing the bare, creamy skin underneath. Breathing started to become difficult, I started panting, as the realization that she was naked under the silk scrap of fabric dawned on me. _Oh God._ My mind hazed as she slowly crawled into the bed, positioning herself above me so that her hips just barely brushed mine. I bit my tongue, holding back the urge to touch her, my body stiff and unsure of what to do. After all those years of solitude, I had no idea how to touch a woman. Of course my body was screaming at me to ravish her right at this very moment. Her soft lips touched mine and a moan tore from my throat, strangled and tortured sounding. "Don't be afraid," she whispered, "touch me my love." At that moment, she let her robe fall open and something inside of me erupted. And then I…..

….I sat up in my bed, breathing as if I'd just run for miles. I felt sticky and gross. "That was a dream?" I whispered into the dark. Something hot and liquid was running down my leg. I reached up to touch my face and felt the now familiar Phantom's scar. _What is wrong with me?_ I bit my lip, holding back tears. "Men don't cry over dumb dreams… No matter how real they seemed." _She was here! _My mind protested. _I felt her,_ _I could've touched her!_ I swung my legs over the bed, standing as I glanced at the time, and sighed. Tears still stung my eyes. I needed to distract myself…. I needed to bathe. My body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and the sticky substance had begun to dry against my legs. I felt dirty as I walked to the bathroom behind one of the mirrors. Sighing again, I began to fill the large claw foot tub with hot water. I could still feel her lips on mine as I sank into my bath and slipped under the water till it covered every inch of me. Then the tears I shed mixed with the water and cleansed me body and soul.

Amanda's POV:

I could feel him there in the room with me the next day after classes. "Hello?" I called softly, stepping slowly towards the mirror. "Angel," his voice came from behind me. I whipped around to find only empty air. "Where are you?" I asked with a slight tremor in my voice. _This is starting to freak me out._ I shivered slightly, remembering the dream I had last night for a moment before clapping my hands on either side of my head and squeezing my eyes shut to block out the memory. "No," I scolded myself, "it was just a dream. Don't let it get to you."

"You dreamt it too?" His voice came from my right this time. When I turned to follow his voice, there he was, towering over me. I shook my head slightly, trembling, "I don't know what you're talking about." His deep blue eyes bored into mine, searching my soul to see if I was lying, before he smiled to himself. "You did better in your lessons today." I flushed, "you were watching?"

He smile grew slightly, "I'm always watching…." He paused for a moment, "well almost always." My heart skipped a beat as he turned the smile on me for a brief moment. My lips burned to ask him what he meant, but I stayed silent for fear of the answer. Instead I asked, "so will we be continuing our lesson tonight?" He considered it for a moment and my heart stopped, remembering yesterday's rejection. I blushed, feeling even more foolish about last night's erotic dream. _What if he doesn't want to teach me anymore? What if he decided to choose somebody else?_ I panicked slightly, words tumbling out of my mouth. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I just couldn't help myself. I don't know what came over me. It won't happen again. Please don't choose a different student because of what I did. It won't happen again. I'm sorry." His shocked gaze met mine for a moment before he doubled over, roaring with laughter. Irritation shot through me. _What the hell? He's laughing at me? Really?! _My anxious look turned to one of annoyance, and as he caught my gaze he straightened. "Forgive me," he said, regaining his composure and touching his mask as if to make sure it was still on, "I did not mean to upset you. But you seem to have misunderstood how this works my dear. I do not actually choose you. You are chosen for me from the moment you begin to sing." My heart fluttered as a thought pushed its way into the front of my brain. A question: _Is he saying that I was made for him?_ I stared at the man in front of me in shock for a few moments as the little voice in my head replied: _Yes._

(Bum bum bum! Lol okay so again not really, but I just didn't know how to end this. Especially after having writer's block for so long. So I am sorry for how long it took to post this chapter. I got a new job and between that and graduating and family visiting and other drama, it's been difficult to write. But here it is. I hope you liked it. I'll post chapter eleven as soon as I can, but it might take awhile. Please read and review.)


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